


Indiscretion

by Kristiania



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Drama & Romance, Dubious Consent, F/M, Interspecies Relationship(s), Not typical love story but still a love story, Occupation of Bajor, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2019-10-27 02:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17757929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristiania/pseuds/Kristiania
Summary: This is the story about the relationship between Gul Dukat and his new Bajoran mistress which led to absolutely unexcpected consequences.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Неосторожность](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7385524) by [Kristiania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristiania/pseuds/Kristiania). 



> Many thanks to Alina Gordelli and Peter Lydyard for their invaluable help with the translation.
> 
> Huge thank to aquacobalamin for her beautiful portrait of Tora Naprem made specially on my request.

 

It was a particularly hot today on the Promenade, or perhaps Naprem had spent too much time in the ore processing unit. The wet robe stuck uncomfortably to her back and her heels were unbearably sore from tight shoes.

Never mind, she’ll get home soon, drink some water and take a nap. The most important thing is not to run into a Cardassian patrol. If she is mistaken for a rioter again and held at the Security Service for the whole night, she’ll collapse with exhaustion at work and will be beaten mercilessly.

After diving into a narrow corridor Naprem reached the end and pushed open the simple iron door with no access codes.

The light bulb flickered as feebly as ever, hunging down from  the ceiling. Reon was stretched out on a narrow bunk trying to read whilst his companions, crowded around the table, were finishing their porridge.

“Hi everybody”. She waved and pulled the robe over her head with relief, remaining in her home shirt and leggings. “How was your work?”

“As usual”, the redhead Tennan muttered, “pushed around incessantly!”

“But there is some good news”. Reon turned to the girl with a smile. “Tomorrow all Bajoran staff will get a double ration. You’ll certainly get it too”.

“Wow, and what’s the reason for such generosity?”

Tennan grinned:

“Gul Dukat is arriving for an inspection. He is for ever talking from holoscreens about this great friendship between the Bajorans and the Cardassians. So they are sucking up to him!”.

“It would be so good if we really had enough food”, Naprem sighed, freeing her clipped hair and letting it down. “Yesterday I dreamt that I was guzzling on veklava and just couldn’t get enough”.

“Don’t remind me about veklava!” Amon groaned. “Damned Cardassians! I can’t even remember the last time I thought about anything but food and sleep”.

Naprem took a sip of warm water from the bottle and shook her head pensively.

“And I would like to see the sun more than anything. It’s always so dark here on Terok Nor…”

“Wait a second”, Reon squinted at her with interest, “didn’t you volunteer to work here?”

“I did”.

“You could have guessed that it would always be dark here”.

Tennan shrugged:

“Anyhow nobody is starving to death here – but on Bajor…”

“That’s not the case”, the girl said quickly. “At least not the only one. My elder sister Lisan was brought to Terok Nor three years ago and there has been no news from her since then”.

“Did she come here as a medic like you?”

Naprem shook her head.

“Lisan didn’t want to come, she was taken by force. She was very beautiful”.

Tennan frowned, Reon’s thin fingers clenched.

“I see. And you want to find her?”

“I’m really trying. I’ve been trying for all of four months. But officers’ mistresses are treated at the military hospital and I don’t have access to”.

After a while she added:

“Tomorrow I’ll try again. Quark indicated me someone who can help”.

“Quark?” Amon pursed his lips skeptically. “This huckster who’s getting fat on our misfortunes?”

Naprem shrugged:

“I don’t have any illusions about his morals. But if his fellow knows anything about Lisan, I will do all I can to get this information”.

She twisted her stiff neck, went to the table and took the lid off a blue pot.

Tennan sighed guiltily, rubbing the back of his head.

“Sorry, Naprem, we…”

“He and Amon have finished your soup”, Reon completed. “When I arrived the pot was already empty”.

She put her hands on her hips:

“Well done! Tora Naprem is not hungry, of course. Why not to spend her food without her permission?”

“You see, we’ve just…”

“How long are you going to keep this up? For some reason, I never take your food!”

“It is for the last time, Naprem. I swear”. Amon’s bony hand lay on her shoulder. “Tomorrow we’ll give you half of our rations, OK?”

“I’ll hold you to that”.

Naprem pulled the frayed woolen blanket from the bed and then inserted it between the dosses, separating herself from the guys.

“I don’t know about you but I’m going to change and to sleep. There are only four hours until the work starts”.

 

Irsa Ondar, the Head of the Health Unit, frowned at her subordinate after she heard the request, but still exclaimed:

“Go ahead. We really should look good in front of the Prefect if he decides to visit us. Mind you, you have only half an hour and no more”.

After Naprem thanked Ondar, she rushed to the Promenade – calling her an old lizard in her mind as usual.

She quickly found the clothes shop with a bright green sign. The automatic doors opened before her and the bell rang somewhere in the depths.

“Welcome, young lady”. A short Cardassian who noiselessly appeared before her bowed his head respectfully. “Do you want to renew your wardrobe? We have got some new samples in from Lissepia just yesterday”.

“You see, Mr. Garak”, Naprem laughed quietly, “I’m not as wealthy as to be able to buy silk dresses”.

“Oh, please”, he threw up his hands, “not so official, just call me Garak. What can I do for you?”

“I need three white medical coats – for two females and one male. Here are the sizes”. She handed him a note.

Garak’s pale eyes sparkled.

“The coats will be here in a moment. You might wish to look around meanwhile – may be you’ll like something else”.

Naprem nodded and walked over to the models lined up along the wall.

“So beautiful… I could look at them forever”.

“Let me show you this”, Garak skilfully spread out one of the dresses. “Winged sleeves is the Federation’s latest design. But boofs are still preferred on Cardassia Prime”.

Naprem smiled carelessly:

“And what do the Bajoran women wear these days? I mean not the girls like me but the special ones. They surely have a rather peculiar taste”.

“A woman is generally not easy to please”, Garak smiled, “but when it happens I feel that I followed my calling for a good reason”.

“Tell me, has Tora Lisan ever shopped here?”

Garak walked to the stall.

“Look at these coats. I think that’s what you’re looking for”.

Naprem casually ran her hand across the smooth thick fabric.

“I’ll take them. But you didn’t answer me”.

“I don’t think that this is the appropriate place to talk about Tora Lisan. After all, my business…”

“At least please do tell me if she is alive”, - Naprem stepped closer.

Garak handed her the bag with the coats.

“Something happened between her and Glinn Rayal a year and a half ago. He ordered to take her to Gallitep”.

Naprem trembled and the Cardassian tailor’s calm hand fell on her shoulder.

“This is the official version. It might not be accurate”.

“Every day hundreds of Bajorans die at Gallitep”, Naprem muttered. “May be you could just…”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you anymore”, Garak shook his head. “Come again! You’re always welcome here”.

“Thank you”.

After looking at the time she hurridly left. It would be too bad to be late.

 

Two guards with rifles at the ready were following Gul Dukat, scanning a small area of the health unit. Irsa Ondar stood attentively, greeting the Prefect.

“What is the situation with healthcare, Gil Ondar?” Dukat took a hospital card with a benevolent look and turned it over in his hands. “Bajoran workers are valuable material, they shouldn’t faint too often”.

“We provide them with all the necessary assistance, Gul Dukat. Fifteen Bajorans are currently hospitalized, others are healthy”.

Oh yes, definitely healthy – the thought flashed in Naprem’s head. Skinny, haggard, hardly able to stand – they are healthy, of course, aren’t they?

“Show me their medical files. I want to know what treatment you use for them”.

“Tora Naprem”, Gil Ondar called the nurse, “load the files onto the screen”.

Naprem went to the computer and opened the program. Colourful enhanced graphs began to flash on screen.

 “You perform your duties well, Gil Ondar”, Gul Dukat nodded approvingly.

She brightened and saluted:

“For Cardassia!”

The Prefect turned to his guards:

“I think now we should inspect the docking bays”.

The doors closed after him and Irsa Ondar heaved a sigh of relief.

“Finally we can get to work. Zeron, bandage that bleeding worker, he has already been waiting for half an hour”.

Naprem glanced towards the exit with hesitation. No, she shouldn’t approach the Prefect, it’s insane. At best she’ll be sent to the disciplinary cell, at worst – to the labour camp.

“Tora, what are you waiting for?” the Head wondered. “You can surely find something in the dressing room for you to do”.

“We have run out of bandages”, she muttered. “May I go and get them?”

“Go ahead”.

Naprem slipped through the door and ran to the Promenade with her heart pounding heavily in her chest. Gul Dukat couldn’t have gone far yet.

And there he was, speaking to a young officer.

“Gul Dukat!” she called to him. “I need to talk to you”.

He turned around slightly and his brow ridges rose in bewilderment.

“What’s the matter?”

She didn’t have a chance to answer: a red blaze burste under the Prefect’s feet and he collapsed onto the floor with a muffled scream, blood pouring through his damaged armour.

 “Dear Gods…” uttered the ashen-faced officer. The guards were looking at each other shocked, and something pushed Naprem forward.

 “What are you standing there for?” She kneeled by the Prefect, clamping his wound. “A deep regenerator, quickly!”

One of the guards, embarrassed, took a regenerator from his belt and handed it to her.

“Bring me a bottle of a painkiller, cardiac stimulator and a hypo from the infirmary”.

The guards rushed to follow her instructions, whilst the officer bent over Dukat’s body with curiosity.

“What do you think, will he survive?”

Naprem, running the regenerator along the wound, uttered through her teeth:

“If he is lucky enough”.

 

“Are you joking?” Reon looked at her puzzled. “Did you just save Gul Dukat?”

Naprem curled up in the bunk, put her hand under a flat like a slip of latinum pillow.

“It’s still impossible to guarantee that he’ll stay alive. But he survived the first few minutes of blood loss and he’ll get a proper care in the hospital”.

Reon snorted skeptically:

“You’re crazy. Why did you do it?”

“I am a medic”, Naprem shrugged. “I can’t practice because of the Occupation, but it does not make any difference”.

“But it does!” Amon jumped from the bed. “Cardassians starved your father to death in the labour camp, made your sister a whore, and you…”

“And I don’t want to be like them”. The paled corners of Naprem’s lips stiffened. “Likewise I don’t want to hear my sister been insulted”.

“Sorry”, the guy murmured. “It’s just that Dukat could have already been dead…”

“And somebody else would have been assigned in his place. Perhaps, a sadist like Darhe’el”.

“I wish all of them would be blown up by a bomb”, Tennan muttered.

Naprem’s thin hand squeezed his fingers.

“We will all be free eventually. We have to be patient. The Prophets will not forsake us”.

“The Prophets”, Reon repeated quietly. “We can’t even pray to them”.

“Pray in your heart”, Naprem looked at him earnestly. “Cardassians can’t take that away from you”.

“Well”, Tennan reached for the light switch, “let’s go to sleep. Tomorrow they’ll force us to work until we drop dead to justify these double rations”.

After a pause he added:

“As long as you don’t regret what you’ve just done, Naprem”.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Naprem placed the tricoder against the old Bajoran’s sunken chest and smiled briefly:

“Your test results are normal, Veera. It’s time to be discharged”.

He winced and touched his forehead with a sigh.

“Again for ore processing?”

“These are the rules”. She took the tricoder away. “Now I have to make changes to your hospital file and you’ll be taken back to the processing unit”.

The man sat in his bed, gazing at the girl’s face:

“Nurse Tora, you know that my time is running out. Oh no”, he raised his hand, “don’t object. I saw myself in the mirror here in the emergency room. And I’m only forty one”. 

“What do you want, Veera?”

“Let me stay here – just for a couple of days. I don’t”, his throat twitched, “I don’t want to go back to that hell”.

Naprem shook her head anxiously.

“Do you understand that this will be qualified as an official misconduct? If Irsa Ondar learns about this…”

“Please”, his lips shuddered. “For the name of the Prophets”.

“Don’t get out of bed. Try not to talk to Gil Ondar when she comes. I’ll report that you have a recurrent episode of muscle weakness”.

Naprem left the room without listening to his thanks and headed to her superior’s office.

“Gil Ondar, here’s the weekly report you requested”.

The Cardassian put aside her PADD and looked up at the nurse.

“Well. You’re free for today”.

“Am I?” Naprem couldn’t hide her surprise. She used to feel lucky for not be forced to work overtime – but to be dismissed in the middle of the day was extraordinary.

“Yes, you may go”. The Chief’s sharp gaze focused on the girl’s face. ”I suggest you make yourself look nice. Gul Dukat has invited you to the Command center for eight o’clock”.

“Gul Dukat? Me?” Naprem pressed a hand to her chest in amazement. “But… But do you know what he needs me for?”

Ondar frowned disapprovingly:

“The Prefect wants to see you. What do you think, would he explain his reasons?”

Naprem lowered her eyes and the Chief warmed up a little:

“I’m sure he wants to thank you for saving his life. Such an act deserves a reward”.

After saying goodbye to Ondar Naprem went to her cubicle, constantly thinking about the evening visit to the Prefect.

 

She brushed her long auburn hair under the hairnet and put on a small amount of blusher in order not to look so exhausted. A grey dress with a belt, plain but clean, didn’t look so bad.

Her neighbours were at work – it was good that they couldn’t see her getting ready. Otherwise they would certainly bombard her with questions.

But is there any harm if Dukat is really going to reward her? Perhaps she’ll even manage to get some news about Lisan.

With a last check in the mirror Naprem left the room and went to the Command center. She had never been in this part of the station before. With a sudden bout of shyness she told the guard at the entrance her name and was handed a pass. “You should go up a level and turn right along the corridor. You’ll see Gul Dukat’s apartments”.

In the turbolift she felt that the Cardassian officers whom she shared the lift with were observing her curiously. Of course, it wasn’t every day that they saw a Bajoran at the Command center.

In the reception room, decorated with carpets and steel weaponry, a young adjutant politely asked her to sit down and immediately called his commander over the intercom.

“Gul Dukat, Tora Naprem is here. She is scheduled for eight. Pardon me, sir? Copy that, sir”.

He turned to the girl and nodded:

“You may go in”.

She took a deep breath, went through the automatic doors and stopped reluctantly in front of a spacious and, for Cardassians, uncharacteristically light room.

“Welcome, Tora”. Gul Dukat rose from the table and approached her.  “I’m glad to see you”.

“Good evening, Prefect”, she bowed her head. “You’ve recovered fast”.

“Thanks to you. I was always sure that Bajorans who organize terrorist attacks at the station are just a minority group and all the others are quite loyal to the authorities”.  

Naprem lowered her gaze trying to hide her sneer.

“We have something to talk about, Tora”, he reached out to her. “Let’s go. Do me an honour of dining with me”.

Her hand rested on his elbow hesitantly.

 

“Bajoran springwine”, she smiled, sipping the drink from a tall glass. “I haven’t tasted it for ages”.

He smiled in response.

“What kind of a host would I be if I offered something like kanar to a Bajoran belle?”

“You’re flattering me, Gul Dukat”, she answered unsteadily. “Why, don’t you like kanar?”

“I do”, he said as he poured some more wine into his glass. “But it’s good for a binge with friends, not for such a special evening”.

Naprem smirked:

“But I thought we were just having a business conversation”.

“You have wonderful hair”, he said. Her remark must have fallen on deaf ears. “Like sunlight on the water. I’d love to see them flowing freely someday”.

“Thanks, Gul Dukat”, Naprem muttered.

“You didn’t know Meru Kira, did you? I mean Kira Meru – sorry, I use first name and then last name out of habit, as we say on Cardassia”.

After hesitating a little Naprem shook her head.

“No, I don’t know her”.

“Her hair had a very similar shade, albeit not so bright. You really remind me of her for some reason”.

“And where is she now?”

Dukat’s broad shoulders lowered.

“Meru died of fever in a military hospital three months ago”.

“I’m sorry”, Naprem said quietly.

“She left a big void. She was a special person”. He paused. “ I take it, Tora”, his eyes suddenly flashing, “that you like medicine?”

“Very much”, she nodded. “My mother and my aunt taught me since my childhood and then I went to medical classes. I have always dreamt of becoming a doctor”.

“Yes, to be just a nurse definitely isn’t your status. What would you say, Tora, if I appointed you at Terok Nor hospital as a civilian doctor?”

“Would you?” she smiled admiringly but her face clouded up instantly. “Oh, I really don’t know… There are not enough staff for treating Bajoran workers”.

“Someone else not as talented as you could treat the workers and run Ondar’s errands. Though… I could assign Ondar to another department and you would become the Chief of the Health Unit. Would that suit you?”

“Yes, Gul Dukat”, she exhaled joyously. “Thank you so much!”

“In addition, you could participate in online seminars of the Cardassian Medical Academy. Education is important. Well, would you like some more hasperat?”

“If I may”.

“Don’t be embarrassed”, he took her plate. “I’m aware of the food difficulties at the station”.

Naprem couldn’t help but taunt him:

“I guess that only Bajorans feel these difficulties”.

“I think everything will be back to normal soon”, Dukat replied evasively. “Please, enjoy the food”.

“Well”, she shrugged, “apparently it’s not easy to be the Head of the Occupation”.

“Absolutely true. Now you’ll soon be leaving me, Naprem”, Dukat suddenly called her by name, “and I’ll go back to my quarters. No one to talk to, no one to distract me from my thoughts. Don’t leave me, Naprem. Stay with me”.

She folded her hands over her chest.

“Was this you, Gul Dukat, who established the job of “comfort women” at the station?”

“This idea was put forward earlier by my predecessor”, the Cardassian commented calmly, “I only implemented it. But why do you think this position is unacceptable? I ask you to become my companion, to provide me with peace and joy during leisure time. You will never again have to starve, you’ll want for nothing. You’ll be treated with great respect at the station”.

“I don’t need such respect”, Naprem said as she stood up. “I know that there is no point in resistance. You can take me by force, Gul Dukat, but you will never get my consent”.

He shook his head with a disappointing smirk.

“I’m not going to compel you, Naprem. Believe me, a lot of girls would be happy to take your place”.

“Am I allowed to go?”

“Of course. No one will detain you”.

He stood up and went to the corridor. Naprem looked behind him, hesitating, and finally put two ripe fruits of veklava into her pocket.

 

“Hey, guys, Naprem has arrived with a trophy”, Tennan slapped her on her shoulder. “Where did you get such a luxury?”

“I just had dinner with Gul Dukat”.

“Oho”, the guy’s eyes narrowed, “and what did he tell you?”

“It doesn’t matter”, she waved it off. “I don’t think he will invite me again”.

Reon went to his roommate, looked at her face.

“All the better. If something happens… do tell us, Naprem. We won’t let them hurt you”.

“Thanks, my good man”, she laughed, rubbing his hair. Does he really think he can confont Gul Dukat?

If only with another bomb.

 

Irsa Ondar was packing throughout the morning and watching her young successor with a slight grin.

“I expected it to end with something like that. The Prefect has utterly lost his head over you”.

“I didn’t ask him for anything, Gil Ondar”.

“Of course you didn’t”, the Cardassian sniffed. “You did not need to ask. He’ll give you everything himself”.

“I rejected him”.

Irsa’s dark-brown eyes widened in astonishment.

“You, a Bajoran, rejected him? Well, now just wait. You will be dreaming of the Gallitep labour camp!”

“But Gul Dukat didn’t withdraw my appointment”.

“That’s just it. Why all of a sudden he didn’t? He isn’t that generous, believe me”.

Ondar fastened the last bag and handed Naprem the PADD.

“Here are all the reports – most of them, by the way, you completed yourself”.

“Well, I’ll look through them”.

“Take care, Tora Naprem”,  the Cardassian nodded at her. “And pray to your gods that Gul Dukat forgets about your existence as soon as possible”.

 

Naprem secured all the doors and went out into the gloom of the Promenade. The first working day was not bad: she hired a young Bajoran named Laan, nice, a bit clumsy boy, at her former position of nurse. There were no accidents at ore processing – if only few heat strokes and chronic fatigue.

Tomorrow she could come to work an hour later, finally get enough sleep. Also she could buy some food at Quarks: after all, she’ll get a salary. Real money!

“Where are you late from, babe?” – she heard a hoarse voice just behind. A heavy hand of a Cardassian soldier almost pinned her to the ground.

Naprem twitched away silently, trying to escape from his hold.

“Such a pretty girl”, he wheezed, engulfing her with an overpowering smell of kanar, “and so rude. Now you come with me”.

A kick in his stomach made him writhe, swearing and cursing. Naprem ran towards the glowing lights – to hide, if only to hide! – but he grabbed her elbow again.

“Where are you going, bitch? Now take off this robe! I’ll teach you to respect the warriors of Cardassia!”

“Is this how you care about the honour of Cardassia?” a strong clear voice rang out. “Let the girl go immediately!”

An unlucky soldier, who instantly sobered up, moved rapidly away and blinked helplessly.

“Gul Dukat? Forgive me, I…”

“Ten days’ imprisonment”,  Dukat said and gave a sign to his guards. “One more time – and I’ll send you back to Cardassia Prime in shackles”.

Naprem gasped for air eagerly, pressing her shoulder blades against the wall.

“Are you all right?” Dukat asked softly. She nodded.

“Let me walk you to your room. I’d like to make sure you are safe”.

“As you wish”, she answered dully.

Dukat took her hand and walked towards the inhabited sector.

The guards lagged far behind and there was not a soul nearby. The sound of their steps echoed loudly from the wall.

“I’m glad that I arrived on time”, the Prefect of Bajor said at last.

“You couldn’t be late”, a weak smile touched her lips. “You’re that kind of hero who always makes it on time, aren’t you?”

“It seems you think very highly of my abilities”.

“It depends. However, you’re definitely not a bad actor or a stage director. If I was several years younger, I would have believed you”.

Dukat laughed:

“I didn’t think you’d see through me so soon. You have a Cardassian mind”.

“A lot of girls would be happy to take my place – this is what you said. Why did you set up this stunt?”

“Actually I’d like to know myself”, Dukat snickered. “You are not like the others”.

“How many Bajoran women have you said this to?”

“Well, have it your way”, he threw his hands up. “Let’s compromise. You move to my quarters and I promise never to even touch your hand without your permission. I need only your companionship”.

Naprem shrugged:

“And why don’t I believe you?”

“Believe me or not – that’s up to you. But I really do want you to agree. Don’t make me resort to threats or blackmail”.

She sighed resignedly.

 “Of course, you would stop at nothing. Let it be, Dukat. When shall I move in with you?”

“I’ll be expecting you tomorrow evening”, the Cardassian smiled. “Don’t worry about your belongings: my subordinates will move them”.

He stepped back and bowed his head:

“Good night, Naprem”.


	3. Chapter 3

A melodic jingle made Naprem raise her eyes from the computer.

“Come in”.

“Good evening”, Dukat smiled at her as if she was tremendously happy to see him. “How was your day? I hope you didn’t have any problems with your resettlement?”

“No problems – except that I can’t look my neighbours in the face anymore. I hope your proposal about my participation at the Medical Academy is still on?”

“Of course. Why, do you already have any ideas?”

She reclined on the chair and rubbed the back of her neck.

“I wrote a research article not so long ago. Mostly for myself, of course: I knew it wouldn’t be published. I want to improve it a little and then to submit it”.

“Wonderful”, Dukat sat down on the arm of the chair and crossed his legs. “And what’s the subject of the article?”

“Chromosomal Problems of Interspecies Reproduction”.

“It must be an interesting topic”, Dukat remarked with a serious tone.

“It really is. Nobody except T’Mel from Vulcan explored this subject before. But I’m going to address the issue from a somewhat different perspective”.

“Now that you are here you have an opportunity to write the whole dissertation. But how are you going to research the practical aspects?”

 “Well, there are statistical data...”

Frowning, she gazed at his face:

“Are you laughing at me?”

“By no means. Do your science, I won’t bother you. Just remind me to contact the Rector’s Council before you submit the article”.

And out he went, leaving her alone again.

 

Naprem dived into bed and instinctively crouched near the wall. Only after several minutes she realized that it wasn’t a bunk at her cubicle, which was so easy to fall from. It was a bed. A proper bed.

Just to try it she turned at her back, stretched out her arms. It was so soft, so comfortable to lie on! And she could even dangle her legs over the edge and stretch across.

And moreover – she wasn’t feeling hot at all. It seemed that Dukat had ordered for the climate conditions comfortable for a Bajoran.

And he didn’t even come to harass her. Amazing.

Anyway, she’ll leave it for tomorrow to reflect on the Prefect’s odd behaviour. And now, it is time to sleep. When will she have such a night again?

 

When she went to Dukat’s bedroom in the morning, she didn’t think for long – she just knocked on the door.

“Come in, Naprem”, she heard from inside.

Dukat was putting on his uniform – apparently he had just woken up.

“By the way, the voice communication button is on the right of the door”.

“You still guessed it was me”, Naprem shrugged. “I have a small favour to ask”.

“I’m all ears”, he turned to her with interest.

“Could you please not talk about me at the station? I don’t want my Bajoran patients to start shrinking away from me”.

“As you wish. But news travel very fast in a closed environment, it can’t be helped”.

“I don’t think so”, Naprem sighed. “For four month I have been trying to find…”

She stopped abruptly and turned to the mirror, fixing her collar.

“Whom are you trying to find?” Dukat stepped towards her. “Perhaps I could help you”.

Naprem shook her head hesitantly:

“I don’t know…”

“Look, who else has information access at this station?”

“I think you are right”, she murmured. “I need to know what happened to a girl named Tora Lisan. Three years ago she was brought to Terok Nor to entertain the Cardassian officers”.

“Tora Lisan”, he repeated. “Your relative?”

“My elder sister”.

“I’ll make inquiries”.

He turned and moved towards the door but instantly winced if in pain.

“Dukat”, Naprem approached him. “How long ago were you discharged from the hospital?”

“Three days it’s been”.

“Does your wound still hurt?”

He raised his shoulder:

“No, not really”.

“Show me”.

“Tamor will come with his report in five minutes. Your examination has to wait until the evening”.

Naprem squeezed his hand:

“No, it won’t. Do you want to start bleeding during the report?”

Dukat rolled his eyes with a martyr's obedience and removed again his armour, followed by the uniform tunic.

Naprem’s fingers touched the grayish pale skin, delicately exploring the scar under his ribs.

“It’s all right, the regenerator worked reliably”.

“So what did I tell you?” the Cardassian chuckled.

“Nevertheless you should avoid physical exertion for a week”.

“You must be joking!” he snorted and began dressing.

Naprem frowned disapprovingly:

“Gul Dukat, you’d better begin taking care of your health. I am not going to repair your skin every day”.

“You won’t need to”.

He shook her hand briefly and walked out of the room.

 

“They are beasts”, Naprem said shortly, examining the young Bajoran’s back that had been lashed by the electric whip. “Who did this to you?”

“G-glinn Daros”. His eyes, blinded by the constant darkness, were full with tears. “He always finds fault with me… every day…”

“Only with you or do the others suffer too?” She turned on the dermal regenerator. She must do her best, the marks won’t go away easily.

“He torments other guys too. We can’t complain to anyone: all the authorities are on his side. But I really can’t take it anymore! I can’t!”

“Hush”, Naprem put her finger to her lips. “It’s your first doctor’s appointment, isn’t it? You haven’t been before, you’ve been afraid of Irsa Ondar”.

The young man nodded.

“You did the right thing by coming here. Such things shouldn’t be concealed. I’ll talk to Daros myself”.

“Will you?” he exclaimed.

“I’m not sure if it makes any difference but I will try. Well, how are you now, better?”

He moved his shoulders carefully.

“It doesn’t burn so much anymore. Thank you, Doctor Tora!”

“Well. Now tell me where I can find that sadist”.

 

A blonde, curly haired secretary in a silver-pink dress – oddly enough, a Bajoran – smiled pleasantly and exclaimed:

“Glinn Daros is busy now”.

“Well”, Naprem smiled even more pleasantly, “I’ll wait”.

She sat on the sofa, stretched out her legs comfortably and took out her PADD to pass the time. It hadn’t been for more than two hours when the office doors opened and the host stepped out. Naprem somehow expected to see a corpulent Cardassian with a smug face, but Glinn Daros turned out to be a rather young and sleek man. His lively dark eyes on a chiseled nervous face looked attentively, with concentration.

“What do you want, madam…”

“Tora Naprem”. She stood up and offered him her hand. Daros shook it limply.

“I’m the Chief of the Health Unit for the Bajoran workers employed in the ore processing”.

“Oh, that”, his voice flashed a disdain. “Do you have a question for me?”

“Perhaps we’d better discuss it in your office”.

“I don’t have much time, madam, erm… Tora. If you have something to say, say it here”.

“Well”, Naprem swung from heel to toe, feeling relaxed. “As I understand that, you supervise the sixth unit. Today your inferiors complained to me about ill-treatment. I have seen the scars from your beatings and torture”.

Daros sneered:

“Are you going to forbid me to take disciplinary action?”

“You had better remind me, Glinn, how the Criminal Statute of Cardassia punishes intentional damage to the property of the military-space complex”.

“I don’t think that I understand you, madam Tora”

“Really? Bajorans are considered to be such property and if you take your anger out on them, you counter the interests of Cardassia”.

Daros’s cheek trembled.

“I have neither the time nor desire to hear your nonsense. You may appeal to Security Chief Thrax if you wish – but he will scarcely listen to you”.

“Thrax will no doubt conduct a thorough investigation”, Naprem’s lips stretched into a grin. “But I don’t have time either. So I’ll just tell Gul Dukat about your methods of entertainment and he’ll kick you out”.

“What?” The Cardassian’s narrow face fell even more. “Why do you think Gul Dukat would listen to you?”

Naprem bent forward a little and lowered her voice.

“He _will_ listen to me”,  she smirked softly. “Check it out if you dare. For now – have a good day”.

 

Gul Dukat chuckled contentedly, drinking hot red leaf tea.

“You really put Glinn Daros in his place today. He thrashed around as if he got a spike in his ass”.

“I am just trying to perform my duties properly”.

“Good, good. But _they_ won’t understand you anyway. They’ll call you a traitor and a renegade – and will stone you”.

Naprem shrugged:

“I can dodge that quite well”.

“Believe me, I’ve already been through this. When I first arrived at Bajor I thought that the local people would love me if only I made their life more comfortable. I wanted to become the Bajorans’ friend very much, but I still can’t achieve this”.

“There is only one chance for you to become the friend of Bajor”, she lowered her voice slightly, “if the Cardassians get out of here. That's when we will have something to discuss”.

“Such a provocative comment”, Dukat grinned. “If you truly think this way why didn’t you join a Resistance cell?”

She laughed briefly:

“Well, firstly, how do you know I didn’t? And secondly, let me choose the right words… It would be very hard for me to kill someone. I feel that the war isn’t my destiny”.

“And what do you think is?”

“I can only try to guess”, she said quietly. “I am not a Vedek and I would not venture to interpret the will of the Prophets”.

“Well”, he concluded rising on his feet,  “I don’t think we should start a theological debate right now. Likewise I still need to work with my documents. And one other thing… I am going to have a party for my friends next week. They are commanding officers. I very much hope you will come. If you need a new dress, perfume, powder or something like that, my account is at your disposal”.


	4. Chapter 4

“Good day, Mr. Garak!” Naprem said as she looked around for the shop owner.

“No, no, my dear”, he suddenly emerged out from under the rack, “we’ve agreed – just Garak”.

“All right. I’m glad you remember me”.

“What can I do for you, Madame Tora?”

She gave him a little smile:

“As I remember, the last time I was here we talked about Cardassian fashion. So, I need a dress. A classy one. For a party”.

Garak’s amiably-sly face expressed no shadow of surprise.

“I can show you all the available styles. But if you’d like something unique…”

“Unique, yes”, she nodded fervently. “Will you take an order to make a dress for me by next week?”

Garak’s eyes sparkled:

“Of course, my dear. Let’s take a seat. I think I can offer you a colour and a cut that will accentuate your attractiveness greatly”.

“Actually, I have only one requirement for the cut”, Naprem sat on the sofa near him. “The dress must be conservative and should cover the shoulders and arms to the elbow”.

“A formal dress it will be”, he nodded, writing some at his PADD. “Austerity and inaccessibility. Shining cold. Here, look at this, it’s more ceremonial style, suitable for a solemn occasion. And this one is shorter, with a slit up the side, perfect for an informal party”.

“I think the ruffle is not needed. And I’d add tucks to the bottom”.

“Nice, very nice”, Garak changed a picture with few taps of his finger. “Like this?”

“And a belt at the waist”.

“Are you sure? It can look a bit fattening on such a style. But, of course, with your slim figure…”

“Just say “bony”, Naprem laughed.

“You are too critical of yourself. And what about the color? Black is a bit gloomy, I guess. What about dark blue? By the way, we can use Romulan silk for your dress. The silk’s glitter will add extra charm to your light skin”.

“May I see a sample?”

“Here, please”.

Garak climbed on a stool and nimbly pulled a piece of soft, shimmering fabric from the top shelf.

“Wow”, Naprem held her breath. “Garak, I have dreamed of that all my life!”

She sneered briefly and added:

“It seems that’s the way for dreams to come true”.

Garak bowed his head knowingly:

“In my childhood I wanted to have my own house where I could stay alone – in absolute freedom. And now I’m for ever alone at Terok Nor”.

“Don’t you have any friends? You seems to have an outgoing personality”.

“Let’s say I’ve got some acquaintances to have a glass of kanar with, but not to discuss music or literature or to share any problem…” Garak ran his fingers over his knee thoughtfully. “Station officers are proud people. Why would they need a simple tailor? So, I don’t impose”.

“It looks like not many people want to be friends with me now too. Some see me as too cowardly, others – as too impudent”.

Garak glanced into her eyes attentively.

“Your life is yours only. Your life should not be tailored by others”.

“I think you’re right, Garak”, she stood up. “So, did we reach an agreement?”

“Yes. If you decide to make any changes, feel free to come back anytime. As regarding the price…”

Naprem waved her hand:

“Oh, it doesn’t matter how much it costs. Send the bill to Gul Dukat”.

Garak nodded and accompanied his customer to the door.

“All the best, Madame Tora”.

 

Five young women in light elegant dresses laughed with each other all the time, studying the sitting room curiously. They were luckier than others: they turned from comfort women, available on demand, into commanding officers’ mistresses. Such an affair guaranteed at least some semblance of a stable position.

Naprem as a hostess had to entertain them but it looked like girls were doing pretty well themselves.

“How long have you been with Gul Dukat?” asked black-eyed Mai, the perkiest one.

“About two weeks”.

“And you used to be a doctor, didn’t you? I heard you saved him from the terrible assassination attempt. What a love!”

“Love?” Naprem raised her brows. “I performed my duties as a medic, that’s all. And I’d prefer Gul Dukat not to remember me after that”.

Mai shook her head disbelievingly and Reenu drew closer with a sympathetic expression on her face.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. At the beginning I was afraid of Nadar, afraid so much. But now he seems even sweet”.

“I would barely ever consider Dukat as sweet”, Naprem smirked.

“Cardassians, of course, have rather harsh skin. It’s uncomfortable at first, but later it even seems somewhat…”

“Erotic”, Mai’s eyes sparkled.

“Nonetheless I still cherish the hope that I won’t have to check it out. By the way, girls, do any of you know Tora Lisan? She was Glinn Rayal’s mistress for some time”.

“A tall one, with golden hair?” quiet Adi asked. "She had quite a melodic voice".

“That’s Lisan”, Naprem moved closer. “Do you know where she is?”

“I haven’t seen her for almost a year. She was always so cheerful, so contented… I heard that Glinn Rayal got angry with her for something and sent her away. He hasn’t made new attachments at the station since then”.

They heard heavy male steps from the corridor. Then the door opened and the Cardassians came in.

“Our ladies are already here”, Gul Dukat nodded approvingly. He took Naprem’s hand into his, kissed her slim fingers, and his eyes flashed with admiration.

“You look gorgeous”.

“Thanks”, she bowed her head.

One of the officers touched the Prefect’s elbow familiarly:

“It seems I may congratulate you? You found your solace at last”.

“I shall never forget Meru”, Dukat raised his eyes to the ceiling. “But Tora Naprem amazed me from the first moment”.

“You bet”, Naprem sneered. “The moment was unforgettable”.

“If not for this girl”, Dukat’s hand lay onto her shoulder, “Central Command would have to find a new candidate for the Prefect of Bajor position”.

Judging by the officer’s lips, squeezed discontentedly, those wishing to take the vacant position would have been found easily. However Dukat didn’t notice – or he chose not to dwell on it.

“Make yourself comfortable. It’s not our first time, is it? Oh, kanar is already poured – excellent”, he raised a high faceted glass. “The first toast – for Cardassia!”

Cheers hadn’t yet subsided when a shrill alarm signal cut through the cabin.

“Attention”, a mechanical voice devoid of intonation said, “unauthorized access to the life support system. Attention: unauthorized access…”

 

Curling up on the chair, Naprem absently leafed through pages of “Never-Ending Sacrifice”. Medics were still not ordered either to the Promenade or to the Command Center – so most likely it was going to be without bloodshed.

Could the Bajoran folks really try to rebel? Or was it just a system bug? No, it had been too long since Dukat left with his comrades.

The girls scattered to their cabins – either to collect their stuff in case of the breakout or to hide from infuriated workers. Yes, it would be regrettable to be murdered by their own people.

However it’s pointless to run anywhere, to fuss… She’d better wait.

What’s this? Somebody is coming. Alone. And judging by the hollow smooth sound of footsteps that must be…

“I came back, Naprem”.

“I see”, she smirked and put her PADD aside. “Perhaps you want to tell me how you took on a dozen of rebels, armed to the teeth, all on your own?”

“There weren’t any rebels”, he waved and sat on the bench close to Naprem. “Someone introduced a virus into the life support system. It looks like sabotage. I instructed Thrax to investigate the case”.

“And have you repaired the system?”

“Not yet”, he frowned. “The technicians say sudden temperature drops are possible”.

A slight smile touched her lips:

“As I remember Cardassians are quite sensitive to the cold, aren’t they?”

“So I’m counting on you to help me”, Dukat said calmly.

“Do not even hope that I would warm you”, Naprem retorted. “At most I could run to Garak’s shop and bring you a warm coat”.

“It seems that you visit Garak far too often”.

“We have a lot in common”, Naprem shrugged.

Dukat’s fingers squeezed her wrist so tightly that her fingers numbed.

“You and this non-entity have less in common than a photon torpedo and a piece of ice”.

“Perhaps”, Naprem said quietly. “But still more than me and you ev…”

She wasn’t allowed to finish: harsh lips stuck into her mouth fiercely, his palm grabbed her nape, not allowing her to turn away.

A hot rough tongue slid along her lips, forcing her to open them. Naprem’s body shivered, she raised on her tiptoes and threw her hands around the Cardassian’s shoulders. Her fingers tangled in smooth black strands, she exhaled sharply and pulled his hair – even closer.

Dukat gave a stifled gasp, pressed onto her mouth more tightly, biting, licking, teasing. He glided below, to her chin, pressed his nose to her neck, rubbed gently, causing Naprem’s skin to tingle.

He unbuttoned her collar, roughly pulled down her dress beneath the collarbones – but the ring of the communicator  made him draw back.

“Dukat here”, his chest was still shaking under his armour plate.

Naprem fixed her dress absent-mindedly and ran her palm from her chin down to her chest.

“I’ll never lay a hand on you – that’s what the man said”, she murmured. “I wonder if there is a Cardassian who lies more than you”.

“Have the coordinates been calculated yet?” Dukat asked his invisible contact. “All right. Received”.

He put the communicator back on the table and turned to Naprem:

“I'm really sorry that we got interrupted”.

“No doubt”, she muttered. “I’m going to my room, Gul Dukat. And I guess you should probably start getting ready for the ice period”.

 

Naprem took a woolen plaid from the wardrobe and spread it on top of the blanket, just in case. However Bajorans really tolerated cold better than Cardassians – she didn’t even feel that cold.

If only she could just fall asleep! But the corners of her lips still tingled and the only remembrance of warm breath tickling her neck was enough to toss and turn without sleep all of the night. It seemed that it was even getting hot in here – Naprem threw the plaid and then the blanket followed it.

She must do something. Dukat won’t back off – it would be silly to believe in his noble intentions, especially after today. To run away? Where? There is no place to hide at the station.

After all, didn’t she understand what she was walking into when she agreed to move here?

It’s not for long. Dukat will realize soon that she’s indifferent to him and he’ll send her away. At least she can hope.

Naprem sighed annoyingly, wiping drops of sweat from her forehead, and reached out to the ventilation panel. Damn it… The life support system was still not working and it looked like Cardassians weren’t hurrying to fix it: they didn’t ever consider heat as a problem.

Half of the Bajorans may suffocate – big deal!

Naprem took off her nightshirt and bent over the bed, fanning herself with a handkerchief. What if she calls Dukat over the intercom and asks what his engineers were doing? Come on, the Prefect must have being sleeping like a sand lizard now. He can’t be woken up.

For the Prophets’ sake, let it stop. So stuffy, like being in the bath.

After Naprem knocked back two glasses of water and demanded the third one at the replicator, she put a robe over her naked body and looked outside. It was a mistake: a heatwave from the corridor hit her so hard that she closed the doors hastily.

Long ago as a little girl Naprem read about the Vulcan deserts and imagined herself riding a sehlate amidst endless red sands. Apparently the temperature in her cabin is not different to Gol’s.

Her head became heavy, blood was pumping loudly at her temples. Naprem got down on the pillows and closed her eyes, allowing herself to fall into a troubled sleep.

 

Something moist and cool touched her forehead, and she turned her head with a groan.

“Hush”, sounded through the sticky mist, “it’s all right. The thermoregulators will soon be fixed”.

“So hot”, she muttered.

“It will soon be over”. Wet fabric touched her neck. “You just need to wait a little”.

An edge of a glass touched her lips – she swallowed greedily.

“Careful, don’t choke”, strong hands lifted the back of her head. “That’s it”.

Naprem blinked and finally distinguished Dukat’s grayish-pale face beside her.

“This temperature is a bit too hot even for me”, he smiled compassionately. “Sadly, we have used most of the cold water at the station”.

“Dukat”, she tried to sit up and staggered immediately. Both her hands clung onto his shoulders. “What time is it?”

“Half past three at night. Unfortunately, there is no medicine to treat hyperthermia in the stores – it wasn’t ordered because it was unnecessary”.

“Unnecessary…” Naprem shook her head. “Hundreds of Bajorans die from exhausting labour under hot conditions”.

Dukat frowned:

“But you know these drugs are designed for one-time use. That’s not a panacea”.

She nodded.

“Never mind. I can handle it”.

“I’ll stay with you”, Dukat sat on the chair beside her bed. “If you need anything, tell me”.

“All right”, she exhaled, turning on her side. She was already falling asleep again.


	5. Chapter 5

Naprem stepped out from behind the computer and nodded to a short Bajoran in a hospital gown who came in hesitantly.

“Sit down, Veera. How do you feel?”

“So-so”, he threw his hands up.

“The rest obviously did you good: you look a different man”.

Veera smiled sadly:

“I’m afraid it won’t last long enough, Doctor”.

“Zeron”, she turned to a nurse, “prepare a discharge sheet for Veera”.

“Yes, Doctor Tora”.

“You work in the sixth unit, don’t you?”

The Bajoran nodded.

“I’ll send Glinn Daros a Directive exempting you from work for two weeks”.

His eyes widen in amazement:

“A Directive? But… who’ll sign it?”

“I will. According to the instruction № 3A about the internal rules of the state medical institutions on Terok Nor, the Chief Doctor has the right to determine a patient’s fitness to work for a time during convalescence”.

Zeron coughed uncertainly:

“But as I remember Gil Ondar never exercised this right”.

“The old ways have changed, Zeron”, Naprem answered cheerfully. “Actually, Veera should really be released for a month or even two. But it would be too risky”.

The young man’s lashes lowered, hiding his eyes.

“I’ll prepare a Directive for you to sign, Dr. Tora”.

The office doors opened instantly as a Cardassian in military uniform came in. Veera gasped almost silently.

“Tora Naprem”, a Cardassian handed her an isolinear rod, “the Prefect ordered me to give this to you”.

“Thank you”.

She waited him to leave and then turned to her subordinate:

“Complete the discharge and give Veera his belongings out. I need to see the message”.

“Yes, Doctor Tora”, Zeron bowed politely and nodded to Veera:

“Follow me”.

 

Her Mother’s face looked at Naprem from the screen – as pale and skinny as four months ago. But her brown hair with streaks of gray was arranged into tidy ponytale, the collar of her white tunic could be seen under woolen jacket and her eyes looked softly, calmly, without her previous anxiety.

“Hello, my girl! I’ve missed you so much!

I hope you’re all right on Terok Nor. Even here we got wind of how you saved Gul Dukat from an assassination attempt. I know you can make your own judgment, but I want you to know that I’m proud of you. When I see relatives fighting for a bowl of soup, a neighbour beating his neighbour to death to get a torn blanket, I pray to the Prophets and beg them not to let anger and hatred ruin us and blind our mind. And I’m glad they’ve heard my plea.

Yesterday the soldiers went to our village. They brought most of the people to the transport to take them to the labour camp. I and your aunt Minu weren’t taken and one of the Cardassians hinted that it was because of you. Moreover, we were brought here, to the town, and now have an apartment. It’s very cozy and we have even got some food for the first time.

I’m sure that this is Gul Dukat’s gratitude for your care, isn’t this?..”

Mother faltered awkwardly, blinked, took her hand to her neck, stroking the collar.

“No matter what happens, I ask you for one thing: please don’t make sacrifices for us. We’ll take care of ourselves. Do listen to your heart: only your heart can tell you the will of the Prophets.

I hope you’ll manage to find Lisan. We never stop talking about her and thinking about her.

We love you very much, Naprem. Peace and happiness to you!”

The screen faded and Naprem passed her hand over it gently. Then she stood, put the rod into the desk drawer. She glanced at the mirror to check if her eyes were watery and looked into the staffroom:

“Zeron, come in. We still have a lot of work to do”.

 

Naprem looked inside Dukat’s office and asked quietly:

“Are you busy?”

“Not any longer”, he turned in his chair. “Oh, that’s my rebel! Continuing to set up your orders in the Health Unit, aren’t you? Glinn Daros is already enraged”.

She sat down on the sofa and crossed her legs carelessly:

“I don’t break any rules, Prefect. I just use my authority”.

Dukat nodded approvingly:

“Go on. Nonetheless you still need to know your limits. I don’t mind you messing around with the Bajorans, but if your actions begin to affect the workplace I’ll have to prosecute you as a saboteur”.

“You won’t have time”, Naprem smirked. “Long before I commit something serious you’ll understand that I am not a person you need and then you’ll choose one of the comfort women who will loudly admire your reptilian charm, your endless kindness and who will fawn on you”.

“I don’t need such a woman”.

“Wasn’t Kira Meru like this?”

“Meru was very kind”, Dukat frowned. “Her warmth would be enough for three of you, little pest. However”, his hand slid down her spine softly, lay on her waist, “I still like you”.

“But I’m not too thrilled with you”, Naprem grinned, and he pulled her instantly to him, not letting her finish, putting his lips firmly on hers.

He kissed her with force and confidence, stroking her neck and collarbone, his calm firm fingers caressing her skin under her medical sweater. Clinging to his shoulders, she pressed closer, passed her hand from Dukat’s nape beneath to his ridge slowly but with strength. Cardassian anatomy textbooks didn’t lie: Dukat gasped, swallowed air greedily and literally sliced into her mouth.

Embracing Naprem’s shoulders and holding her under her knees, he dragged her into the bedroom like an Orion pirate dragging his prey.

Her uniform, dropped to the chair, was followed by his tunic and armour. It took much effort to clasp his tight pants but Naprem eventually helped the Prefect to remove them and his hard, unexpectedly hot body pressed her to the bed.

At first it was a bit uncomfortable, unusual, hurting a little and unexpectedly exciting. Then she was trying to catch air with her disobeying lips, her nails clutching into his rough skin, and finally she just nuzzled her face into the sheet, hoping to muffle a groan. Dukat didn’t seem to be ashamed of his guttural scream at all.

He rolled on his back relaxed, throwing his hands behind his head. Naprem stretched out near him, put her palm onto his chest, covered by soft flakes.

“That’s funny”.

“What is?” he turned his head.

“This all happened so amusingly. Actually, I was planning to do some work this evening”.

Sparkles twinkled in Dukat’s gray eyes:

“To examine the problems of the inter-species reproduction?”

“Yes. And I don’t see anything funny in it!” She hit Dukat’s head with a pillow and he put his hands forward quickly in self-defense.

“Consider we have investigated…”

She couldn’t help but chuckle as he barely muttered through the rising laughter:

“…the practical side of the problem”.

“I see that’s the only side you care about”.

Yawning, Naprem turned on her side and Dukat covered her shoulders with the blanket:

“Have a rest. Your science will wait”.

 

Fallen asleep, Naprem heard in her dream a cold metallic voice:

“Warning: Bajoran workers have gained control of the station. Initiating counterinsurgency program level three”.

She twitched and sat up in the bed. Dukat, typing on the computer, turned to her with a reassuring smile:

“Don’t worry. I’m just writing an emergency response program”.

“What program?” Naprem said as she stretched out sleepily.

“In the case of a rebellion. I have provided several instructions depending of the degree of danger”.

“And what are they?”

“Level one – elimination of the workers directly at the site of rebellion. Obviously, at first they’ll be offered to surrender and they’ll get time to consider this offer. Level two – releasing toxic gas into all Bajoran sections”.

“Are you serious?!”

He nodded:

“Of course, after Cardassian staff have been evacuated. And level three – in the case of a complete loss of control: total destruction of the station”.

“You’re a real monster”, Naprem spat out.

“In fact, I’m acting in accordance with the standard protocol”.

“And you’ll just blow up the station that easily? Kill me? Kill yourself? For what reason, pray tell me?”

“For Cardassia”, he answered imperturbably.

Turning her back to him, Naprem pulled the blanket up.

“To hell with your Cardassia – and with you”.

Dukat didn’t answer. Perhaps he was considering if he should include a level four into the counterinsurgency program.

 

“Doctor Tora, there has been an explosion in the fourth unit. Three victims – all them supposedly having bone fractures. No danger to their lives”.

“I’m coming”.

Naprem put a communicator into her pocket and called nurse Laan. They hastily went to the transporter platform.

“Something goes wrong all the time in the fourth unit”, the guy muttered, standing on the platform. “My brother used to work there. He almost died twice”.

Naprem sighed:

“The main thing is that nothing happens with the transporter. That’s my fifth month on Terok Nor and I still can’t get used to this technology”.

The gray walls of the room blurred before their eyes and they found themselves before the massive steel gates of the Industrial Center.

“Doctor Tora”, Naprem showed her pass to the guard. “On a call to the fourth unit. Is protective equipment necessary?”

“Nah”, he waved, “there is no gas leak”.

As usual it was unbearably stuffy in the unit and there was an acute smell of sweat and iron.

“Back off, back off!” a Cardassian supervisor cleared the way in front of Naprem and her companion. “Here they are, the malingerers. Planning sabotage, aren’t you? Want to go to the disciplinary cell?”

“It’s a Security Service’s competency to investigate if it was sabotage – not yours”, Naprem retorted, kneeling by a frail redhead guy whose chapped lips were whispering something. “What’s your name?”

“Tana Moran”, he uttered. “Tell me, will I live?”

“Surely you will, Moran”, she looked at the tricoder screen. “A fracture of two ribs. Now we’ll patch you up and you’ll be as good as new”.

Even though it was in addition to anemia, low blood pressure and vitamin deficiency, she is not allowed by any means to hospitalize a patient with such a diagnosis.

“Laan, will you handle your injured man?”

“Yes, Doctor Tora, I’ve already stemmed the bleeding. Now I’ll carry out the regeneration”.

“Excellent”, she reached the last sufferer, writhing in the corner. She lifted his chin carefully, glanced into his face – and exhaled wonderingly:

“Reon?”

“Hi, neighbor”, he smiled with difficulty. “How are you?”

“Fine. Show me what happened”.

“You see, my arm…”

Reon tried to move and winced from the pain helplessly. Naprem turned around:

“Laan, give me a deep regenerator”.

“The Prefect wasn’t satisfied with our unit’s productivity”, Reon gave her a wry smile. “So our supervisors completely screwed up safety here”.

“That’s your tough luck. But, you see, it could be much worse… Lay still, I’ll heal your bone”.

The guy sighed silently.

“You look great, by the way. I would even say stunning”.

“Thanks”, she forced herself not to avert his eyes.

After a pause Reon added:

“If not for the Occupation we would surely meet at some party. Fall in love, get married and live happily ever after”.

“Are you joking?”

“Not at all”, he smiled sadly. “One day I’ll kill Gul Dukat”.

Her palm covered his wet fingers.

“Then they’ll execute you too. Don’t do it, Reon”.

She turned off the regenerator, got up and waved to the supervisor:

“Release these three from work for today”.

…Reon seems to have lost even more weight. You could count his ribs.

How could she help him?


	6. Chapter 6

“Dukat, that’s unfair”, Naprem uttered breathing heavily. “When I said that I want to have a rest I meant sleep”.

Gray eyes sparkled slyly:

“Did you not like it?”

She smirked good-naturedly:

“As if you could not guess. I hope there is a good sound isolation here?”

He rose on his elbows and reached for her, slightly touching her lips with his.

“Here, in my quarters, you have nothing to worry about”. His fingers slid into her hair.

Naprem moved closer, sliding the back of her head under his soft, soothing touch.

“Dukat, may I ask you for something?”

“Of course”.

“I’d like to go to Bajor to see my mother and my aunt. I haven’t seen them for four months”.

Dukat’s chest raised heavily.

“It’s dangerous on Bajor now. There is rioting again in Dahkur province”.

“My family lives in Hedrikspool”.

“Anyway, you’d better not go there. Who knows what will come into some fanatic’s head? If you wish I can arrange your family’s visit to Terok Nor later”.

Naprem sneered:

“You’re just afraid of me running away, aren’t you”.

He bowed, turning her chin to him gently:

“Yes, I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you to freeze and starve again, crawling in the woods”.

“Being cold and hungry is hard”, Naprem said thoughtfully. “But they are not the most terrible things”.

Dukat shrugged.

“It depends. By the way, have I told you yet? I managed to find out what happened to your sister”.

“Did you?!” She reached to him. “Come on, tell me!”

“In a word, Glinn Rayal from the navigation service completely lost his head over her the moment he saw her. He fulfilled all her desires, he was showering her with jewelry and expensive clothes, he even became sloppy in performing his duties”, Dukat shook his head disapprovingly. “I don’t know if she truly reciprocated his feelings, but she seemed to be quite happy with her position. So it continued until she discovered that she was pregnant”.

Naprem shivered:

“How awful”.

“Rayal thought so too”, Dukat sneered. “According to the report signed by the supervisor of the Bajoran staff, Tora Lisan was convicted of anti-government activities and sent to the Gallitep labour camp. But I made Rayal confess that after the abortion the girl was brought to the refugee settlement on the orbit of Bajor. He made her promise that she would tell no one about their affair”.

Naprem got up and threw on a dressing gown.

“How generous! First to force himself on a girl and then simply to throw her out. I recognize the infamous Cardassian kindness”.

“A half-Bajoran child would be an indelible stain on Rayal’s reputation. Commanding a cargo ship would be the most he could claim”.

“And that being the case”, Naprem snapped, “he shouldn’t have destroyed my sister’s life”.

“There is something else – even Rayal doesn’t know this. Somehow Tora Lisan managed to enchant or bribe the freighter’s captain and he allowed her to disembark on Bajor. So she has most likely joined the partisans by now”.

Naprem sighed quietly:

“May the Prophets bless her”.

 

After Naprem had carried out an examination of another patient, she breathed with relief.

“We have been very busy today”.

“Now there is a shift change in the ore processing units”, Laan said. “At least we have twenty minutes or so to rest”.

Before he could finish they heard the hiss of opening doors. Naprem rolled her eyes:

“Here goes our break”.

She spread her coat, went to the waiting room, and young pretty Mai approached her.

“I’m so glad I’ve managed to get hold of you. May we talk in private?”

“Of course”.

Naprem sent Laan to the medicine registry and then took the girl into her office.

“Please take a seat. I thought you were looked after by Cardassian doctors”.

Brown eyes looked at Naprem anxiously:

“I can’t go to the Cardassian hospital with this problem”.

Naprem felt sudden pain under her ribs: she immediately remembered Lisan. Could it be that Mai was as… careless as her?

“Promise me that you won’t tell anyone”. Cool fingers touched Naprem’s wrist. “Especially my Tamor”.

She moved closer and nodded slightly:

“I promise”.

“Essentially”, Mai sighed nervously, “we have problems in our love life. In bed, to be exact”.

“Do you?” Naprem’s eyebrows raised. “And what are these problems?”

“Your Dukat, no offence, completely tires out my Tamor on his duties. He comes home exhausted like a hunted hair and falls into bed. For the second week in a row – such a shame”.

“Well, that’s quite natural”, Naprem spread her hands. “Cardassians have their limits too, you know”.

“I’m tired. He pays no more attention to me as if I’m not a woman but a disruptor rifle”.

“But how can I help?” Naprem shrugged. “I can’t advise your friend in absentia, without a tricoder diagnostics. However, most likely there is nothing to worry about – just overwork”.

Mai smiled softly with a plea in her eyes:

“Couldn’t you talk to Dukat so he would be more lenient on Tamor?”

“Honestly”, Naprem got up, “I don’t think that I should get involved in this. And I don’t have such a relationship with Dukat to ask him”.

“Listen…” Sparks of curiosity flickered under Mai’s dark eyelashes. “Is it true that Dukat promised you to…”

The doors opened, passing through was Laan with an iron container in his hands.

“Doctor Tora, the Niridium has arrived from Cardassia Prime. You should sign the invoice”.

 

Naprem was going back to the Health Unit, staggering under the weight of the medicine box. Without the heavy load it seemed to be only a couple of steps away from the transporter platform. But now – try to drag this stuff there!

Well, Laan has already carried seven boxes. It’s still good that Niridium was brought to the station: rumor has it, fever broke out again in the south of Bajor. Given how many forced labourers are brought from the planet every month, the disease could easily spread to the station.

How are her mother and aunt at home, are they taking care of themselves?

“That’s a shame”, someone sighed into her ear, “a fragile young woman like you dragging this huge thing alone! Let me help you”.

“Thanks, Garak”, she smiled and handed him a box. “It’s not far to go – and I have carried even heavier things at home”.

Garak answered quietly and seriously:

“I feel sorry for you”.

“Really?”

“Actually, the Central Command will pay a high price for their decision to seize power of Bajor. Occupation is not profitable for Cardassia and we will soon have nothing to cover the losses”.

“If only you were right!” Naprem exclaimed.

Garak smiled slightly:

“A lot of influential politicians will lose their chairs, and first of all – our mutual acquaintance”.

“Dukat?” Naprem smirked. “He does not appear to be concerned at all”.

“Oh, he is convinced of his own omnipotence but he completely lacks the ability to see beyond tomorrow”.

“You tell me about it”, someone sneered from around the corner. Gul Dukat crossed their way and gave Garak an unreadable look – he answered with a little smile.

“Give me the box – now”.

“My pleasure, Prefect”.

The tailor turned to Naprem and bowed politely:

“It was nice to meet you. Visit my shop – I’ll always have something special for you there”.

Dukat’s fingers squeezed the girl’s elbow tenaciously, and she nodded to Garak:

“Good luck”.

As soon as they turned the corner the Prefect leaned towards her and said harshly:

“If it was hard for you to carry the boxes I could have sent you a whole squad of Cardassians – they would have carried them for you in no time. Why did you need to use this liar?”

“Actually, I was going to do this work myself. Garak offered me his help – what’s wrong with it?”

Dukat’s eyes flashed with anger:

“I don’t want you to contact him. Do you understand?”

She twitched and tried to free her elbow:

“I’ll decide who I want to spend time with. Garak is one of the few people who do not avoid looking me in the eyes and I’m grateful to him. And if you don’t find it acceptable, you’d better send me to the labour camp. I’m not going to crawl on my knees for you”.

“Naprem”, he stopped and his hand touched her nape with unexpected care. “What do you know about Garak?”

She shrugged:

“He makes awesome dresses, he has a great sense of humour. He’s attentive and considerate. And he never shows his superiority over the Bajorans”.

“And one more thing”, Dukat said as he opened the cabin door and let her in first. “He is an agent of the Obsidian Order. One of the best interrogators. If I have blood on my hands then he has blood all over him”.

Naprem shook her head in astonishment.

“That can’t be… Then what is he doing here, on Terok Nor?”

“I don’t even know. May be he is spying on me or he has some other target”.

Dukat put a box on the floor and hugged her, his cheek touched hers.

“There is one thing I know for sure: Garak hates me as strongly as I hate him”.

She stood on tiptoe, gazing into his eyes:

“Why? Is that all because of career rivalry?”

“That’s not the main thing”, Dukat frowned. “My father trusted Garak and considered him as his comrade. In reality, Garak was only waiting for the right moment to strike and wrote a long denunciation about my father. As a result he was brought to trial and executed at the request of the Obsidian Order”.

“Did he really commit a crime which Garak accused him of?”

Dukat turned to her:

“This is irrelevant. I paid Garak back in full. And now this plotter will surely try to get closer to you. He can’t not understand who you are to me”.

Naprem mocked:

“Even I would like to know who I am to you”.

Dukat sat on a chair and raise his head, glaring into her face intently:

“If you want to socialize with Garak, I won’t forbid it. I am only asking you to be careful”.

“Fine”. She sat near him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Dukat…”

“What?” he smiled.

“Tell me why the hell you carried the box here? I was going to take it to the Health Unit”.

“Just a moment”.

He stood up and turned on the intercom:

“Tamor, send two men to me”.

 

“Dukat”, she looked into the bedroom, “are you here? I have sent my article off. The answer should come in two weeks and… How beautiful!”

Amazed, she moved closer to the bed and clutched the light silver-emerald cloak to her chest.

“I’ve seen such things only in holomagazines before”.

White skirt with golden lacing, blouse in old Vulcan style, silk dresses – Naprem inspected her newfound treasure with a glowing smile.

“Is it all for me?”

“Right from Cardassia Prime”, Dukat nodded contentedly. “I tried to guess what you would like”.

“And you succeeded. Thank you, Dukat”. She touched the light purple dress admiringly. “I really feel like a queen!”

“I’ve already applied for a leave to the Central Command. I’d love to show you the most beautiful planets of Alpha Quadrant”. He stretched out on the pillows and pulled her towards him. “So you’ll have plenty of occasions to dress up”.

“Sounds fascinating”, she laughed.

Dukat’s lips touched her neck and he whispered:

“I love you”.

“You shouldn’t say it”, Naprem shook her head. “Don’t mouth empty words, Dukat. It's not gonna make anything better”.

He chuckled briefly and turned on his side, still holding her waist.

“Are you that suspicious of everyone or that’s just me?”

“Depends on the situation”, she climbed under the blanket. “Let’s sleep, Dukat. I have a medical examination of the first and the second units to perform tomorrow”.


	7. Chapter 7

“Dear Mum,

I’m fine. Gul Dukat indeed decided to thank me for the medical help, albeit he did it in a rather specific way. Anyhow, I was promoted to the Chief of the Heath Unit and I now live in a much more comfortable room than before. There aren’t any food shortages either.

I hope to get the opportunity to see you all soon. It would be so good to hug you after such a long time and to chat about everything.

I managed to get some information about Lisan. She has had a hard time but at least she has left Terok Nor a year ago, alive and unharmed. Now she most probably is somewhere on Bajor.

From what I hear, a fever will break out on the planet in the next few weeks and it will affect Hedrikspool as well. Be careful, if possible don’t drink tap water and avoid raw vegetables.  If you have nothing to eat again, please, let me know. I’ll do everything to get you food – thankfully now I am in a position to do it.

Lots of love.

And one more thing: please try to make Aunt Mina understand only what I’ve said explicitly. She has always been an idealist, and I don’t want to frustrate her”.

 

“Next”, Naprem turned to Zeron.

He went out into the corridor and brought in another laborer on the gurney with a sloppily wrapped leg. Naprem took a tricoder and sat beside him.

“Pull the bandage off, Zeron. What happened?”

“A blowup in the unit”, the laborer’s white lips muttered. “I thought I was trapped in the rocks and I would never get out… How shall I now appear in front of Luma – with a limp?”

“If you have a limp, it will be only for a while”, Naprem murmured. “Laan, an antibiotic hypospray, please”.

“So what’, the man grimaced in pain, “You think I’ll be able to jump like a grasshoper in five minutes?”

“Hardly in five minutes, but after a day you can certainly return to your duties”.

“Doctor Tora”, Laan intervened, “we have almost run out of antibiotics. That’s the last pack”.

“Did you hear that?!” the patient rose with his hands. “No medicine! No food! No water! And you are telling me to jump up and to run to work, you, Cardassian whore!”

Zeron twitched nervously. Laan’s round boyish face went pale, he stepped forward:

“How dare you…”

“Never mind, Laan”, Naprem raised her hand. “Anger is quite an efficient way to tackle pain. Give me a regenerator, please”.

The frowning laborer stayed silenced while she treated his wound.

“That’s all”, she nodded and checked out the new bandage once more. “Don’t overuse your leg today if possible. Tomorrow morning you’ll come back to work”.

“Yes, Doctor”, he said dully, not looking at her.

“Dismissed. Zeron, is there anyone else?”

The nurse looked outside.

“Not yet”.

“Then I’ll go to Ops to send a message to Bajor”.

She caught his gaze and turned around:

“What is it?”

“I’m still thinking about the days when Irsa Ondar ruled here and you and I were equals. I liked you better then”.

After waiting for the door to open she stepped outside and looked over her shoulder.

“I can say the same about you”.

 

The communication panel blinked up indicating that someone wanted to get access to the premises. Naprem put her PADD on the table, took her shawl and went to the hall.

“Who is here?”

“Glinn Nadar”, she heard. “I’d like to talk to Gul Dukat”.

“Gul informed me that you were coming”, she opened the doors. “He is working late at the tribunal session. Please, come in to the sitting room”.

“Thanks”, he sat on the sofa and glanced around with a bit of curiosity. “I’ve heard something about this tribunal. Seems to be an act of diversion?”

“That’s exactly the prosecution’s version”, Naprem’s lips pursed.

“And what about your version?” the young Cardassian asked.

“People were running flat out without sleep and rest. They just couldn’t cope with the complex equipment”.

He nodded:

“I also think that the supervisors are those who must be prosecuted. But Gul Dukat thinks otherwise – moreover, the anti-government leaflets were found on these workers… Anyway, it seems to be a complex story”.

She walked to the replicator.

“Would you like some tea, Glinn Nadar?”

“Yes, please”.

He took the PADD in his hands, looked through the text on the screen.

“Are you reading Never-Ending Sacrifice?”

“Yes… I’m trying”.

“I would never think that anyone except the Cardassians would be interested in our classics”.

“I barely managed it myself”, sounded cheerfully from the hall. “If not for the essay we had to write, I would have been stuck into this novel by now”.

Nadar smirked:

“Like there was any doubt. Gul Dukat and I went to the same grammar school, Madame Tora. I entered the first class when he was in his senior year”.

“Yes, I was quite a trouble-maker at the time”, Dukat observed contentedly.

“It doesn’t look like things have changed a lot”. Naprem put a salver with two cups onto the table. “If you need me, Gul Dukat, I’m in my room”.

“Okay. I’ll come soon”.

 

“So, did you see off Nadar?” Naprem turned sleepily and slightly raised her head above the pillow.

“I’m sorry”, he threw up his hands, “I couldn’t know that we would talk for so long. Nadar seems to have something like a boiling fountain in his head: one thing after another”.

He laid down near her and touched her shoulder through the thin fabric of her nightgown.

“I ran myself ragged today”.

“What’s the sentence of the tribunal?”

“Regrettably, there can be only one punishment for the rebellion”.

Naprem shrugged:

“You know, I thought a lot in recent times about what is rebellion and what is treachery”.

“Possibly, the influence of Never-Ending Sacrifice?” Dukat smiled. “By the way, what do you think about it?”

“I can’t say that I like it but I’ve learned something new about Cardassians mores. It seems to me”, she propped up her chin with her fist, “I’ve understood the main problem of your people. You always move in a circle”.

He frowned slightly:

“What do you mean?”

“Seven generations described in the book are trying to reconcile privacy with the service to the State and are making the same mistakes. They don’t learn anything from their experience. They are not able to escape from the maze into which they drive themselves. And that’s how you all live.

“Me too?” Dukat asked curiously.

“If you didn’t, why then would you have a crush on red-headed Bajorans every time?”

“I even won’t try to argue”, he raised his hands jokingly. “And what do you like from the classic literature of Alpha Quadrant?”

“Well, now I’m reading a Vulcan novel from the pre-Surak period. It has been recently translated”.

“I’ve never heard about it. What’s the subject?”

“It’s a story about a girl who should marry the son of the clan leader, but a Vulcan from a hostile clan abducts her on the day of her marriage. She becomes his wife and she has to pretend to be submissive and loving”.

Dukat’s eyes flashed with interest:

“I suppose she’s planning to escape?”

“Not quite. She hid a dagger under her pillow to kill him while he was asleep”.

“Vulcans had quite original morals”, Dukat looked at her face with curiosity. “So what, did she kill him?”

Naprem smiled calmly:

“Everything is in the coming chapters. I haven’t finished it yet”.

“Well, then tell me later”, Dukat yawned and turned on his side. ”Computer, lights off”.

His cheek touched her temple, his chest heaving smoothly and calmly.

Naprem closed her eyes: she wanted to sleep very much too.

 

According to the jerking of Gul Kahan’s knee, his patience was clearly running out.

“Isn’t it an insult? Who are you to interrogate me like this? I can’t get into Ops for half an hour because of you and your assistants shaking tricoders in front of me and my officers”.

Naprem responded calmly:

“This is on Gul Dukat’s orders. If you wish you may read the instructions on health measures set up to prevent an outbreak of the Rakantha fever”.

“Cardassians don’t get this disease”, Gul muttered.

“Nevertheless I have been ordered to examine all arrivals for security reasons. If you have any questions, I’ll connect you to Ops”.

Kahan ran his hand through his greying black hair.

“All right. Fuck it, go on. By the way, since when are administrative duties in the dock assigned to the Bajorans?”

Naprem shrugged:

“All the senior medical staff is included into the duty chart. I take part in this inspection too as Chief of the Health Unit for the staff serving for the Industrial Department”.

The Cardassian grunted:

“Perhaps that’s right. A Bajoran knows more about Bajoran diseases. So, Doctor, am I healthy or not?”

She glanced at the tricoder screen.

“No changes have been detected. You can go, Gul Kahan”.

He nodded and went out into the corridor.

Naprem propped her heavy head with her palms: she still has ten Cardassian officers to examine yet.

“Gil Namman”, she pressed the link button, “please come in for the examination”.

But instead of the tall stocky pilot’s body a fragrant cloud of silk appeared at the doorway.

“Naprem, thank the Prophets! I’ve been looking for you all over the station”

“Mai”, Naprem wearily pushed back the hair from her forehead. “Not now. I have quarantine duties until  the night, so I can’t drop everything and engage in the assessment of your and Tamor’s personal life”.

Coming closer, May said quietly:

“Help me”.

Her lace trimmed sleeve slid up her arm and Naprem gasped soundlessly: fever spots threaded through her white skin like light-blue blots.

 

Clasping his hands behind his back, Gul Dukat was walking around the office.

“That’s all regrettable, very regrettable. Ana Mai is ill, three workers from the eighth unit are ill too… Why has no one invented a vaccine for this stupid fever yet?”

“There are two reasons”, Naprem stood up from the chair. “Firstly, the virus is very unstable, it often mutates. Secondly, the Cardassian government won’t subsidize research of a vaccine for the Bajorans”.

“And that is too bad”, Dukat responded. “This way the whole production could stop if the workers get sick. And who will be the guilty party? Me again”.

Naprem smirked slightly:

“Quite logical”.

“So, what do we have… Have strict quarantine measures already been taken?”

“Yes. At least I’ve followed up on it in the Health Unit”.

“The medicine has been brought from Cardassia Prime – that’s good. We should take care of the transport as a precaution”.

After a pause he added:

“Tamor insists that Ana Mai should be sent back to Bajor. It seems he doesn’t really believe that she will recover”.

Naprem sighed deeply, trying to restrain her anger.

“Transportation is very dangerous in her condition. I can take care of her in the Health Unit”.

“Well, there is one more thing I want to talk to you about”.

Coming closer, Dukat put his hand onto her shoulder.

“You should take a vacation. I don’t want you to risk your life every day, messing about with your patients”.

“This is my duty”, she stepped away.

“I’ll dismiss you from it. Our Cardassian doctors are quite capable of fighting the fever”.

Her lips curled and her voice trembled:

“Cardassians? They will not even bother. Let Bajorans die in their hundreds – they’ll just laugh”.

Dukat raised his brow ridges in bewilderment:

“Where did you hear this partisan propaganda from? Or was Gil Ondar a villain, hating her patients?”

Naprem shook her head slowly.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to leave my position. Please, let me stay and help”.

“Dummy”, Dukat’s thumb touched her chin, “it’s you who I worry about. I need you much more than those vagabonds”.

“Need me more?!” She recoiled. “Can I ask you, for how long, Gul Dukat? When will you get bored of me and throw me out?”

“Naprem…”

“I’ve seen enough of such things”, her eyes were tingling with anger and helplessness. “You think Mai’s example taught me nothing? I would better go away now – on my own will!”

Dukat squeezed her unexpectedly tightly, pressed his lips to the pulsing vein on her pale temple.

“Even if you get the Rigellian foot-and-mouth disease  and your skin falls of you, I won’t send you away, do you hear?”

“ Why don’t _you_ get foot-and-mouth disease”, she muttered.

He exhaled loudly and his warm breath touched her hair.

“If you want to work hard further in the Health Unit, I will allow it. Let it be. But remember the danger and don’t even dare neglect your individual protection. I’ll be keeping my eye on you”.

She smiled a little.

“You need not worry about this, Prefect”.

He nodded, silently squeezing her hand.


	8. Chapter 8

“Mai, you’ll surely get well”. Naprem’s hand in a protection glove adjusted her tangled blanket. “The medicine will take effect in a few hours and you will feel better”.

Mai’s parched lips stirred, murmuring something. Naprem bent closer:

“What is it?”

“Tamor”, the sick girl exhaled. “Tamor… he did not come to see me even once, did he?”

“He hasn’t yet”, Naprem averted her eyes. “Apparently he doesn’t want to bother you”.

Coughing, Mai raised her hand to her mouth.

“He would have come. He knows how I am waiting… for him. He… he just does not love me”.

Well done, finally she’s got smart enough to figure it out. Why would he, a Cardassian, love you? He’s played around enough – he’ll just find a new toy.

“Doctor Tora”, Zeron looked inside the hospital room, “the tests results are ready”. He handed her the test-tube.

She got up and went to her office, which had been hastily converted into a laboratory.

Ah, if only she could get a proper education! If the Cardassian medics weren’t so arrogant, refusing to help. Then she wouldn’t look blankly at the tricoder, trying to understand why the anti-viral drugs have such little effect.

“Perhaps it has been too little time”, Zeron’s voice said behind her shoulder.

“You’ve learned to read minds?” Naprem smiled weakly.

“I’m asking myself the same question as you are. Destroying the RNA structure of the virus takes a long time or…”

“Or the virus has mutated”, she ended, twirling the test tube in her hand. “And in this case we have no idea how eighteen infected Bajorans should be treated. Well, Zeron”, she rubbed her aching temple, “wake up Laan and send him to me. You ought to sleep”.

“It’s nothing, I can still work”.

“You’ve been awake eighteen hours. Go and have a sleep. Tomorrow I’ll ask Dukat to give us one of the analyzers from the military hospital and the work will go faster”.

He shook his head, stepped forward and staggered, pushing his chief by the elbow. The test tube flew out of her fingers, the loose lid came off with a clink, and a light blue spray dripped over her face and neck.

“Aw!” she drew back with horror, as if seeing a snake.

Zeron’s face, already pale from the lack of sleep, turned gray like a Cardassian’s, his lips quivered.

“Forgive me, Doctor Tora, forgive me, I didn’t want to… I’ll wipe it, I’ll wipe it off. I’ll spray antiseptic”.

“I can do it myself” Naprem retorted, raising the antiseptic hypo to her neck.

“Wash it… You need to wash!”

He rushed behind her into the bathroom.

“I swear, Doctor Tora, I didn’t want to do it!”

“How hastily you are trying to justify yourself”, she sneered with anger. “And I'm even not accusing you of anything yet”.

“I know this disease is transmitted through skin contact. But I didn’t think…”

“I don’t care, Zeron”, she ran a hand through her hair wearily. “Whether you wanted to kill me or not, or who ordered you to do it… When your friends from your Resistance cell lay with a fever in this very room while Irsa Ondar chats on the communicator impassively, they will certainly remember with pleasure about their vengeance”.

“Doctor Tora”, he pressed his hands imploringly to his chest. “It was an accident. I mean I initially planned to do it, but then…”

“You’ll be explaining all this to Trax, the Chief of Security”.

After a pause she added:

“And after all, the splashes could have been on you too”.

Zeron hung his head in shame.

“I didn’t think about it. I didn’t have time to think about anything. If only you knew”, he squeezed her hand, “how I want to turn time back!”

“I already said”, Naprem shrugged, “ that it doesn’t matter. Don’t touch anything. Lock the doors. I’ll call the security”.

 

Naprem threw her bag on the dresser and stretched herself in the chair, lifting her face to the softly glowing ceiling.

“Well, what a day”.

“Did you get tired?” Dukat nodded sympathetically. “I’ve received your report sent to me by the Chief of Medicine. I was amazed reading it: when do you have time for all this stuff?”

She laughed weakly:

“To be honest, I barely manage to do half. And these analyses…”

“What about them?”

Hesitating a little, she shook her head:

“Nothing urgent. Tricoders have detected some changes in the RNA of the virus. Perhaps this is why anti-viral drugs barely work. But I hope to find a combination of drugs that will help the immune system to cope with the disease”.

“I’ll send a request to Cardassia Prime: perhaps we’ll get more new medicines”.

He reached for the PADD and wrote a note.

“Just don’t overdo it, OK, Naprem?”

“Of course”, she smiled hopelessly.

He glanced down, looking at her arms crossed on the armrest.

“You’re trembling”.

“What?” Naprem touched her forehead confusedly.

“Your fingers and your knees are shaking like it’s a hard landing in a shuttle”. He moved closer and placed his chin on his fist. “What happened, Naprem?”

“Nothing, Dukat”, she laughed loudly. “I’m just cold”.

“You are cold in the cabin with the Cardassian climate conditions?”

It seemed he wasn’t going to believe her, but she didn’t lie. She was really chilly all evening.

Racanta fever incubation period is three days. Until that no tricoder can show if she got it or not.

Prophets, she’s so scared… She wants to live so much. She could sob now or she could fall on her knees – please, have mercy!

“Naprem, tell me, what is it?”

If only she could warm up a bit. If only she could shake the prickly anxiety off her head just for a short time.

“It’s all right”, she stretched toward him and her trembling fingers rested on his neck ridge. “A bit cold”, her lips touched his cheek, “that’s all…”

He pulled her towards him, urging her to throw her head back. His hard fingertips slowly circled the contours of her mouth and touched gently a dimple on her chin.

“Is that really you, my Naprem? Am I awake, is this a reality, not a holodeck?”

“Enough talking, Dukat”, she exhaled. “Kiss me at last”.

 

She gulped the replicated water greedily, pressing her back against his scaled chest. Her erratic breathing still wouldn’t settle down and she had to gasp for air.

“Hey, don’t be so greedy”, Dukat jokingly pushed her under her elbow, “leave me some”.

She silently handed him a glass. The echoes of unbearably hot waves, that made her arch and scream a few seconds ago, were still rolling through her body.

She has never been so overwhelmed before.

“You spilled the water”, Dukat leaned and licked a thin calm trickle from her neck.

“You don’t miss anything”, Naprem laughed, resting her head on his shoulder. “Ooh. I think we both could use some sleep”.

“We’ve tried already”, Dukat reminded her in a deliberately serious tone.

“Well… We’ll try again and see what happens, yeah?”

Dukat nodded sleepily.

“I have a patrol meeting tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll have time to recover. Take the day off tomorrow if you wish”.

Tomorrow she will only have to send a request to discharge herself from her position to the Chief of health care. And not to forget to scan sleeping Dukat with a tricoder – just as a precaution.

 

She shouldn’t leave her apartment: one accidental contact and the station will have one more deadly ill Bajoran. So she scrolled through diagrams with the results of the experiments on screen again and again, trying to detect any specific properties of the mutated virus, distinguishing it from the wild type.

She still didn’t get an answer from the Chief of the Health Department about her replacement. And Thrax also didn’t hurry to call her to the court-martial.

How could she have been off guard with that test tube and its loose lid… She should have put on a protective mask at the outset.

Well, perhaps she’ll be lucky. Perhaps the Prophets will have mercy. “While we are still alive, we shouldn’t give up hope” Mother used to say. She said it when Father was taken to the labour camp, when they had nothing to eat for three days and when weeping Lisan was dragged to the shuttle by the Cardassians…

The doors in the hall opened with a hiss and Naprem heard Dukat’s voice:

“I understand, Legate. Of course I do. I am only asking for one thing: to help me to arrange a meeting with the representative of the Federation”.

This was the first time Naprem had ever heard these oily-sweet notes in his voice. She has never remembered Dukat speaking to someone so smoothly, so flatteringly before.

So, that’s how he grovels before his authorities?

“Tell him the price does not matter. It’s a matter of prestige for me. I can’t lose control over Terok Nor”.

Entering the room, Dukat dropped into a chair without taking the communicator from his ear.

“I realize that they are not very open to dialogue. I’m ready to beg them if necessary”.

To beg? The Prefect of Bajor is ready to beg the Federates?

“Thank you, Legate. I owe you”.

Switching off the communicator, Dukat leaned back in his chair and put his hand to his forehead, massaging his ridges.

“You are early today”, Naprem said quietly.

“I had to put aside the business. How can you explain this to me?” He dropped his PADD at the table.

There was Thrax’s report about the incident in the Health Unit and Naprem’s letter of resignation opened up in the PADD.

“I didn’t want to talk about it yesterday”, she said slowly. “I tried to think about anything except the virus”.

“I have told you”, Dukat stood up, “take a vacation! No, we are too proud. We love to make an impression”.

Napren shook her head:

“It wasn’t an impression”.

“Then what was it?”

He walked back and forth, sighing heavily.

“It’s true what they say: grant freedom to a Bajoran and he’ll destroy himself and others”.

“How dare you!”

Dukat waved his hand.

“Calm down. No need to attack me. Better tell me, have you been anywhere today?”

“No”, she took a breath, trying to hold back her tears.

“At least that’s good. Now listen to me”, he folded his arms around his chest. “You shouldn’t resign yet: write an application for leave. We’ll send someone temporarily to your position. When will you know if you are ill or not?”

“In two days. I have injected myself with Niridium as a precaution”.

He nodded.

“I think much will be clear in two days. We’ll wait. By the way, would you help me to pack my clothes now? I am off to important negotiations in the evening”.

“How long will you be gone for?”

He leaned towards her and kissed her temple:

“Not long enough for you to organize a coup on Terok Nor at least for now”.

 

“Madame Tora, may I come in?”

Naprem stopped the holofilm – the main character has just swore his beloved eternal loyalty – and went to the door, looking at the scanner window.

“Quark? What a surprise”, she pushed the button. “Come in”.

“I’m glad that I have an opportunity to greet you”. The Ferengy bowed his big head funnily. “I got some new interesting items in the holosuite – perhaps you’ll fancy some of them”.

He reached out an isolinear pod to her.

“This is the full catalogue”.

“Well, thanks”, Naprem smiled. “Do you personally visit all your potential clients?”

Quark squinted cunningly.

“Frankly speaking, I wanted to get to know you better very much. Moreover, the high authority has left us for a couple of days – it would be a shame not to use this opportunity”.

“It seems you know everything”, she laughed. “Well, have a seat. Would you like some tea?”

“I’m sorry, Madame Tora”, he threw up his hands, “I’m in a hurry. If I don’t catch Garak before seven o’clock, I’m gonna lose a good deal”.

“That’s a pity. I had hoped you would tell me what’s happening on the Promenade. I’m at the end of my tether sitting here in seclusion”.

A smirk touched Ferengi’s lips:

“I hope you’ll find the catalogue entertaining. Best wishes, Madame Tora. Good health to you”.

…After saying goodbye to Quark, who rushed out so suddenly, Naprem unconsciously tossed and caught the pod in her palm. She’d rather look through it now, the film will wait.

After the loading indicator stopped blinking, she opened the folder. The first file turned out to be a catalogue with hundreds of bright pictures and the second was a text message in few lines:

“Naprem, we need to meet urgently. I’ll be waiting for you the day after tomorrow in “Quarks” at the second table near the wall.

P. S. You’ll recognize me by my earring”.


	9. Chapter 9

Cautiously moving through the noisy group of tipsy Cardassians, Quark approached a new guest who was looking back at the doorway as if unsure whether to enter the bar.

“Good evening, ma’am. How can I help you?”

“I’m not sure”, she said hesitantly. A strand of red hair slid from her hood and a woman tucked it back quickly, pulling the hood down.

“I seem to have an evening of mysterious guests today”, the Ferengy winked at her. “Come in and make yourself comfortable. My bar is at your service”.

Despite the hot air conditions that Quark always maintained for the Cardassians, she didn’t even loosen her collar. She walked between the tables before spotting a gray-haired woman in a dark coat, sitting with her back to the passage. A silver earring resembling a bird was shimmering in her ear.

“Excuse me”, the guest coughed tentatively, coming closer, “was it you who sent me a letter?”

“Yes, Naprem, that was me”.

Turning, the stranger lifted her face to the light, and Naprem gasped:

“Lisan!”

“Yes, little sister, it’s me”, her chapped lips quivered. “My last name is Tiya now. Fortunately, someone managed to change the record in my personal file”.

“I always believed…” Naprem’s voice dropped and she fell silent for a few seconds. “I always believed that we would find you in the end”.

“Are you glad? I’m afraid Mama won’t be pleased to see what became of me”.

“Don’t say that!” Naprem leaned to her sister’s hand but froze halfway. “I’m sorry, I can’t even hug you. I might have a Racanta fever”.

Lisan frowned:

“A fever? So, is that wrong what I’ve heard about you?”

“You might have hear a lot of different things about me here, at the station”, Naprem smiled ironically. “It’s true that I’m the Chief of the Health Unit. That I’m with Gul Dukat now is true too”.

“Good”, her sister replied.

“Seriously?”

“I was once in your shoes, don’t forget. It’s not for me to blame you. And your position will help us to get revenge on the spoonheads”.

“Who do you mean – “us”?”

Lisan put her finger to her lips:

“All in good time. You will help us, won’t you?”

“I’ll try. But I need to know what you are going to do”.

Lisan coughed and pressed her hand to her chest.

“Don’t look at me like this, sis, it’s not the fever. It’s just… I spent days and nights in woods and swamps in winter”.

“You are so skinny”, Naprem sighed. “I’ll bring you food, just tell me where”.

Lisan nodded.

“Tell me one more thing: is Glinn Rayal serving on Terok Nor?”

“I think he is. But I don’t know him”.

“It doesn’t matter’, her sister grinned like a wolf. “I know him quite well. He must recognize me too”.

She pushed away her bowl of broth and stood up:

“Naprem, I won’t tell you where I’m hiding – for your own safety. I’ll send you a message when I need you”.

“Okay”, Naprem stood up too. “But if I really have a fever, I’ll become ill in several days”.

“That’s a pity”, Lisan winced. “Well, in that case we’ll have to manage without you. See you soon, sis”.

Her tall figure slipped out. Naprem silently followed her sister with her eyes.

What made her like this? Wandering on Bajor? Rayal’s betrayal? Or was it the child who was never born?

Damn Cardassians.

 

She needed to write to her Mother that Lisan has been found. But she had to do it so subtly that the Cardassians who would have an opportunity to read the letter would understand nothing. A partisan on Terok Nor – this is no joke.

Perhaps Lisan has already sent a message home? Naprem hummed and shook her head. The old Lisan would have definitely done it but this woman with a metallic stare would not jeopardize the Resistance plans to comfort her Mother.

After snacking on the catterpode beans Naprem sat down at the computer and began typing. Nothing came to her mind. Her head buzzed, her forehead was clenched as if pressed against a steel plate. And in addition she felt awkwardly hot.

There was no point anymore in wondering if she had a fever: everything was now clear.

Naprem still took a tricoder and raised it towards her chest. Wow, that was going really fast… Well, immunity was never her strength.

For some reason the red graphs on the screen didn’t frighten her much. Perhaps that was because she wanted to sleep too badly.

She needed to finish the message, to take a shower, change her clothes and go to sleep. Or just to manage getting to bed…

Naprem fell asleep right in her chair at her desk.

 

Someone’s hand yanked her elbow sharply, hard fingers digging at her skin. She opened her eyes, frightened, and saw Dukat’s angry face above her.

“Wake up! How long do I have to shake you?”

“Sorry”, she stood up with some difficulty, shifted from one foot to the other. “I didn’t hear you entered”.

“Surely”, he smirked, “torpedo shoots wouldn’t wake you up. Unzip your collar”.

“Sorry?” Naprem blinked sleepily.

“Your collar”, he repeated, taking a hypo out of his leather bag. “Tell me where to give you the shot. Actually, medicine isn’t my cup of tea”.

Naprem turned out the soft fabric and pointed her finger absent-mindedly at under her collarbone, from where the medicine could find the easiest way through her veins.

Dukat bent towards her, pressed the hypo to her skin carefully.

“Here?”

“Yeah”.

It pricked slightly at her shoulder. Dukat straightened up with relief.

“Check out your vitals in ten minutes. I was told that Ritalin is much more effective for these viruses than Niridium”.

“Ritalin?” Naprem looked at him in amazement. “Where did you get it? It just can’t be synthesized artificially, and it is produced only on two planets of the Federation”.

“So I got it from the Federates”, Dukat waved away. “I had to bargain”.

“It must be so expensive…”

“I would have lost more if half of the Bajorans on my station had died”.

After a moment of silence he added:

“I’ll be in my study. Please do tell me immediately when you notice any changes”.

Naprem smiled:

“I think I feel better already”.

Embracing her shoulders, Dukat exhaled:

“That’s wonderful”.

 

Black eyes on Mai’s skinny face looked enormous. She was sitting on her bunk, shaking her head thoughtfully, her sharp knees covered with the blanket.

“They say Tamor has already found another mistress. A beauty from Rakanta – she was brought here a week and a half ago. I’ll be taken back to Bajor, what do you think?”

“I don’t know… You may have to stay here as well”.

“Oh yes, to work with ore or to clean the Promenade. Just imagine how the workers will greet me after I have been walking with Tamor on my arm for half of a year”.

Naprem frowned:

“Doesn’t sound good. Perhaps, you would like me to talk to Quark? May be he’ll employ you in his bar”.

“Really?” Mai looked at her with hope. “At least it wouldn’t be so awful there”.

“And if he is stubborn I’ll hint at a possible Security Office check”, Naprem grinned.

“By the way, do you know what I’ve heard from the neighbors? The security officers blackmail the workers: Ritalin is allegedly very expensive and any sick Bajoran who commits the slightest misdemeanor won’t get it”.

Naprem pursed her lips:

“How do you like it! And the most important thing is that it doesn’t prevent Dukat from presenting himself as a father-benefactor of the Bajoran people”.

Mai smiled sadly:

“Good thing that you don’t like Dukat. You won’t have to feel disappointed if something happens”.

Naprem shrugged silently.

The door behind her opened and a tall fair-haired guy dressed as a merchant entered the chamber.

“Excuse me, where I can find the patient Oden Emry? I was looking for him all over the Health Unit and could not find him”.

“Oden?” Naprem looked at her friend uncertainly. “Have you ever heard this name?”

“I’m not sure…”

“Now, this is strange”, the guy scratched the back of his head. “I was told he is a patient here”.

Naprem came closer.

“And what’s his diagnosis? There is a database in the Chief Doctor’s computer, we could look up there”.

He frowned anxiously.

“I’m not sure if the Chief Doctor wants to talk to me”.

“At the moment there is a locum in the office. And the Chief Doctor is me. Let’s go, I’ll help you”.

“Thank you so much!” The guy squeezed Naprem’s fingers impulsively. “I really did not know what to do”.

A barely perceptible note slid gently into her hand.

 

Naprem knocked twice and stood by the wall, waiting for the door to open. A small ray of light reached down to her feet and a man’s voice asked:

“Who is it?”

“Tora Naprem”.

“Come in”.

A guy, the same who came to the Health Unit, opened the door, letting her in.

“May the Prophets bless you, Lady Tora. I’m glad you came to us”.

“Lisan wrote that she needs to meet me immediately. Is she here?”

“I am”, her sister stepped forward from the shadows. “Did you bring what I asked you about?”

Naprem handed her a heavy bag.

“Look: food, drugs, some tools. I hope it will be enough to start with”.

Lisan frowned:

“Is that all?”

“Sorry. I won’t try to get the explosives for you. Firstly, I would get caught for sure, and secondly…” She folded her arms. “I do not approve of terrorism”.

Lisan sneered. She pushed a button, removing a wall panel, and hid the bag.

“There were days when I also thought that Bajor could be liberated peacefully. Well. Anyway, thanks, sister”.

Naprem stepped towards her sister, touched her grayish hair tied with a ribbon.

“Do you want to kill Rayal?”

“Him as well. He is one of many. Not a single Cardassian should stay on our planet and in her orbit”.

Hugging Lisan tightly, Naprem put her chin on her sister’s shoulder.

“Be careful. I’ve only just found you and I don’t want to lose you again”.

The elder sister’s lips flinched:

“I don’t want you to feel sad because of me. But I will do anything for Bajor”.

“I will pray to the Prophets for you”, Naprem whispered. “They won’t leave us”.

 

Dukat had a sip of kanar and smiled at his mistress:

“You look wonderful today – I could watch you for ever. Can’t imagine that you were shaking with fever just a week ago”.

“It’s all thanks to your medicine”, Naprem lowered her eyes. “Still it is a pity that it is used as an instrument of intimidation”.

“What intimidation are you talking about?” Dukat smiled innocently. “I’m just trying to keep the situation under control. If the citizens don’t recognize the power of the State, then why should it take care of their health?”

“And it seems the State means you… ouch… ahchoo!” Naprem pressed her palms to her face. “Oh, sorry. I must have put on too much spice… ahchoo!”

“Yes, your Bajoran spices are dangerous to overuse”.

“This has never happened before. Ahchoo!”

Jumping up from the table, she rushed to the exit.

“Going to wash. I’ll be back in a moment!”

Leaning back in his chair, Dukat held the glass of kanar to his lips again.

It took about fifteen minutes before Naprem came back to the room. Disheveled, her cheeks glistening from washing, she sighed with relief:

“I think that’s over”.

“Perhaps you should get tested for allergies just in case?”

“Well, if it happens again, I’ll take the tricoder. By the way, dear Prefect”, she tilted her head mischievously, “when can I resume my duties?”

He shrugged:

“I’ll sign the order tomorrow if you insist. But mind you, it wouldn’t be for long. We are going to Risa for a vacation in two weeks”.

“Actually, I would prefer to…”

Naprem couldn’t finish: a crash behind the wall made the floor shake. The bottle of kanar flew off the table and shattered into pieces.


End file.
